


Those Words

by Moon_Raccoon_exe



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Breaking-Up Issues, Fluff, M/M, Overthinking, Slight Anxiety, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 16:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11421459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Raccoon_exe/pseuds/Moon_Raccoon_exe
Summary: "I need to tell you something."Ignis did not even need to be given any hint. Those words, those bloody words were all he needed to know the day had come: the day his most precious treasure would ask him for the break-up.He heads for the meeting place without giving himself the chance of a second guess, expecting for Gladio to say those damn words for once.





	Those Words

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Teen for not all people really understand anxiety. I don't treat that subject too deep in here, it's only a very slight beginning of anxiety, but I don't believe it is for a general public (for many will just tag Ignis' overthinking and fears of 'paranoia lol'). 
> 
> This was a headcanon shared in my Tumblr by Tumblr user worldclasswombat, whose headcanon triggered me, and who allowed me to write it properly as a fiction.
> 
> Shared link of original post on the notes at the end.

“I need to tell you something.”

One phrase, six words. It took one phrase made out of six words for Ignis to understand this was finally the day. The day he had been aware would come, the day he had been expecting ever since the beginning of all this. The day that the greatest part of the world he had built around himself would shatter, break down, and turn into dust.  
The day a part of himself would die.

He had told himself multiple times across the day that he was but exaggerating; this did not have to be such a big deal. He had been mentally prepared for weeks, for months even. He had known this would happen at some point, he had always known, so he had no reasons to behave with nerves now that it was finally time. He had no reasons to not be able to focus at work, he had no reasons to feel the back of his eyes itching, he had no reasons to want to, for once and maybe the first time of his life, excuse himself from work and rest in bed. But there he was…wanting nothing but to bury himself under the bedsheets, lie somewhere and not move. Not do anything but breathe, and that would be out of instinct. It was a ridiculous reaction, he insisted to himself, an overdramatic response that worked of nothing. It was ridiculous. A simple and everyday thing, so normal in life, did not have to make him feel all this.

A break-up did not have to hurt this much.

Gladio, his boyfriend, had not even said what he wanted to talk about, but it was pretty clear to Ignis; he hated to know it this way and he hated the way it sounded but, after all, Gladio _did_ have quite an expedient on ex partners. For his twenty years, Gladiolus had quite a list of people he had bonded with into a relationship and that had come down to the same: break-up, goodbye, farewell, good riddance. How many, that had been something Ignis had not wanted to ask or find out, but one did not require to know the exact number to know it was more than three. Maybe more than five. Maybe more than seven. Maybe a bit more…  
Maybe Ignis had counted. He had not wanted to, and he had tried to insist to himself he was not doing it…but he could not help to notice every time Gladiolus entered a new relationship.  
After all, it had never been Ignis. He had noticed when it was not him, because he had wished to be. 

And when his chance came, when it had finally happened, Ignis had been aware the entire time that he would be ‘one of those’ too.

He and Gladio had started dating a couple months after the older man’s latest break-up. It had been sweet, soft, a side of Gladio that Ignis fantasized about with frequency despite his own struggle to shut his own daydreaming (for considering it ‘shamelessly teenage-like’) but had only come to really meet in that precious moment he would contain in his heart so long it would beat, at the rooftop of the Citadel, only the two of them, a small flower, two confessions and a kiss on the head when Gladio realized Ignis was too nervous for one on the lips without needing to be told about it aloud. And the relationship started, continued, developed at its own rhythm. 

But Ignis had been aware. He had always known. Ever since Gladiolus started showing the first shy and subtle signs of being reciprocate on the sentimental attraction towards the prince’s adviser. Ever since Gladiolus started approaching him with more frequency, started delivering small compliments, started behaving more gently with him. Ignis was young; he could be inexpert but he was most definitely not stupid. He was aware that Gladiolus wanted something more; that the compliments were not a hundred percent honest, that they were just a way of fishing. But Ignis was…hopelessly in love, and even when he knew it was but a way of fishing for him like an animal, like a trophy, he still let himself be reeled in. Because even when he knew it was not the conquer of a heart but the hunting of a random prey, he was so desperately in love that, despite his attempts of not surrendering to it, he found himself giving his Yes to Gladiolus without even realizing he was already in his arms.

That was Gladiolus’ power, Ignis had come to notice, his terribly strong power of seduction. He could drive the most reserved man out of his senses. Ignis had spent nineteen years of life being instructed harshly on becoming the coldest, most rational, most focused and most objective head in the entire world…and yet, Gladiolus had only needed a couple of compliments, a couple of sweet gazes, a couple of little caresses on his face to destroy all his defenses, break through, and ruin his life in the most beautiful way. And Ignis let him. He knew what this man was causing to him, and he was letting him…because despite it being only “one of those” to Gladiolus, he was honest. Despite it being just ‘another’ relationship, Gladiolus really was not toying with him. He was sincere. All the compliments, while they looked for attention, were delivered with honesty. All the little caresses, while with the selfish want of attention, were sincere. 

But sincere does not mean eternal, and Ignis knew it.

All those things previously listed, all of them as seen by Ignis.  
He had come to believe that this was just “another” relationship for Gladiolus. After all, like Ignis reminded to himself often, too often, way too often to be healthy, the Shield of the prince did have his record on failed relationships. It had not been Ignis intention, but he had been interested in Gladiolus’ affection and emotional health for so long that he had come to analyze things without helping it, because that was how his mind worked; without his permission. On its own. Giving him results and numbers even when he tried to not think about them. Even though he had buried his head under the pillow that night after their date to celebrate their first month together, his mind still threw at him the numbers and facts, ignoring his desire to not know them; Gladiolus’ longest relationship had come to be of nine months, and most of the rest had come to end in an average of the fifth or sixth month or a little prior, a little later, or somewhere in between. He had broken up with as many women as men as equally as he had both dumped and been dumped.

Five or six months as a maximum…

That was why, that day, Ignis was entirely sure it was finally the end of his relationship. He and Gladio had celebrated their eight months together only a week before those terrible six words given to him on a normal day.  
_Of course,_ Ignis was thinking to himself throughout the day, _this was too precious to be true. It has been too beautiful to last any longer._

Ever since that precious night at the rooftop of the Citadel, hugged to Gladio, the heart floating in calm, he had known it would have to come to an end sooner or later, simply because that was Gladiolus’ pattern: enter a relationship, let time pass, and break up, and repeat. Ignis was aware he was one of them, but he still came to give his yes to Gladio both out of blindness and because he _wanted_ to be Gladio’s and for Gladio to be his, even if only for a week. Even if it had been only a day. Even if it had been an hour of holding his hand, Ignis would have taken it, because that was how much he had wished for a year or two by now for his feelings to be reciprocate. He hated to train with Gladiolus and not be able to touch his collarbone only to admire it, he hated to look at him pass by the hallway and not be able to tell him, sincerely, how well he looked. It had been easy to control at first, but when feelings had come to grow too big, they had escaped from their cage and Ignis could do nothing to control them anymore. And they led him to this. To give that cursed Yes. To not care about being used as ‘one of the bunch’, one of ‘the thousands other there are’, only ‘one more like the rest’, so long Gladio would let him touch his hand only for a day.

He had spent many nights, maybe more than necessary, thinking and overthinking on the breaking-up matter. It was precisely because Ignis had taken for granted that Gladio would break up with him sooner or later, he had come to overthink almost on a daily basis about their relationship.  
_Could he have felt disgusted that I called him ‘Dear’ today?_  
Perhaps I should not have kissed his knuckles. It will make him think I’m rushing things, and, of course, he doesn’t want to get too far, so seeing me rush will only speed up the process of the break-up. It has to come at its time, not sooner or later.  
What if I slow down too much and he grows tired earlier, nonetheless? That would give him reasons, too. He will grow bored of me earlier than expected.  
…does he not find me boring already?  
It is true I do not have all the time in the world; he must grow easily exhausted of my tight schedule and the little attention I am able to give him. And when I do, I barely do show any explicit demonstration of affection.  
I could be a little more affectionate in public if that’s what he wishes…  
Then again, that could make him uncomfortable; could have him feel I’m rushing things.  
So I could always slow down…  
…then again…

A mess. That was what Ignis had come to be. And yet could not bring himself to talk any of the matter to Gladiolus; it could only rush the process of break-up, the adviser always thought to himself. He had shared a couple of times his fear of not being enough or on doing a terrible job as a boyfriend, seen as Gladio had had plenty of chances to taste from different spoons while Ignis…was himself. Unexperienced and cold, dry and even moody. Gladiolus would always laugh very lowly, take one of his hands or his face, and give him a little kiss to the fingers or to the temple. _’I don’t care’_ , he would always say, _’stop comparing yourself to others. You’re not like them’._

Ignis, with sadness rather than bitterly or angered, usually wondered how many people Gladiolus could have said that to…

Even though Ignis had told to himself to not grow many illusions and hopes for a long relationship, he had not been able to help it but fall in love with it. With all the small details and the greater things. The dates at cafés, the little notes Gladio sneaked into his briefcase at random times of work, the walks in the park, the silly exchanges of awful jokes and nicknaming, the attention Gladio was giving to him no matter how busy any of them could be, and all the hugs, the little caresses, the small demonstrations of affection. The incredible way Gladio waited for weeks before daring for a kiss on the lips. The sweet, innocent way he asked permission first. The way he laughed at Ignis for being so nervous, but held him and looked at him until he relaxed, and made the ‘laughed at’ seem more like a ‘laughed with’. The tiny plush toy Gladio gave him on their fifth month together. Everything. Everything had been way too sincere, too honest, and too precious. Too precious to let it all go as easily.

But the fact that he was holding something and he, for once in his life, did not want to let go of it did not mean that _it_ did not want to let go of his hand…

That was the problem Ignis had been struggling with across the still two hours left in the Citadel before work shift was over and he could go talk with Gladio and find their break-up in that conversation: Ignis had fallen in love with their relationship despite his great efforts not to all over it, and he was now struggling with the idea of it disappearing. He had promised to himself to not grow too attached to it, but there he was, not focusing in work, with that stupid itching behind the eyes, and this desperate need to take the stupid moogle plush toy and throw it against a wall, to kick a chair, and finally come to put order again, only to sit down at the floor and let himself sob like a teenage girl with the heart broken. That was how he felt. Ridiculous…but, more than just that, defeated. Shattering. It was like Gladiolus, with only that ‘I need to tell you something, I'll see you at the rooftop when work's over’, had slashed down with a sword once, only enough to shatter Ignis; make him fragile, broken without breaking yet, vulnerable. At only one more hit of falling apart.

So the solution, Ignis was aware, was simply to go and receive that last strike. It was much better to be killed at once than live under torture for any longer. 

Gladiolus had requested they talked at the rooftop of the Citadel, like he had done the day he had brought that small flower to confess. Ignis, of course, overthought about the choice of place and he found it to be the best place for Gladio to ask him for the break-up; there were a cycle begins, there it must end, Ignis mused, so it could only make sense that Gladio had asked him to the place he confessed to now break up..

Ignis, with a deep breath once he was dismissed from work, started heading for the elevators, with quiet steps, straight towards the rooftop. It had become a special place to Ignis, and some sort of magical haven for both of them, an observatory without roof or telescopes, a house without rooms, a shelter without any other protection than the gleaming of the stars. In his way from his office to the elevator, he was in complete acceptance of it. With some sadness, but he did not hesitate much. When he arrived to the last floor and made his way upstairs, he had come to be a bit nervous, but fine.  
And when he was finally on the rooftop and found Gladio, with the growing but still short hair on top of his head and ridiculously short on the sides, with that dumb hoodie Ignis adored to steal at times, and smiling with nerves, standing there...that was another story.

Ignis could not help himself but to compare his situation to that of a man sentenced of death making his way to the guillotine. He was given days, weeks, months to get mentally prepared, and he had been entirely sure he had come to accept it, to understand it, to fully process it in his head. And, when the moment came, he had thought he was completely prepared and made his way to his death place in complete calm…but being there, but seeing the guillotine, but to be right face-to-face with death itself, the man suddenly realizes he’s everything but prepared. How funny it worked, the human mind. Lying to itself so well it believes its own lies, but ending up facing the truth sooner or later. Believe to be prepared for the final hit, and then be an a second from it and realize humankind is prepared to face everything but death no matter how well prepared a man is.

“Ignis…” Gladio greeted when he saw the prince’s adviser arrive. Ignis only confirmed for the millionth time his suspicious when his boyfriend did not receive him with the usual grin and the wave of a hand, but rather with the twitch of a corner of his lips. Ignis was a step from the stairs; he could still turn around and leave, pretend this did not happen, not face his destiny. But there he was, and there was no turning back; it was senseless to try and avoid destiny. This was his own death sentence, so no matter how much he could try to escape, it would get to him at some point anyway. He took in a deep but subtle breath, and started approaching the older one in complete silence. The sun was midway on its way into the horizon. Soon enough, Ignis reached him and stood in front of him. No hug, like always. No happy greeting. No childish toying with his hair.

Ignis hated so much to have Gladio messing up with his hair…and, yet, he would have given _anything_ for it to happen, for Gladio to reach his hands towards him and give him the worst hairstyle of the world.  
But the Shield of the prince only stood there, quiet, with the hands hidden in the pocket of his hoodie. 

“You…okay?” he heard Gladiolus ask him, and his nerves were obvious. Ignis looked up at him and forced a small smile, and forced a nod. “You look…upset. Maybe I could…what I have to tell you, maybe it can wait for tomorrow if you’re not feeling…”  
“I’m alright, Gladio” Ignis interrupted him, trying to stay in one piece, taking all of his might not to break down right in there and then. “I’m just…tired. Long day.”  
“I…well, if you’re alright, then I can…” Gladio hesitated and cleared his throat. “I know you’re tired, but don’t worry. It won’t take long.”  
_Of course it won’t_ , Ignis thought, _strike at once, let this be over. It only takes one shot. Quick, fast, clean._

They stood in front of each other a bit awkwardly in silence for some moments. Ignis could see the other was growing nervous with every passing second, trying to dissimulate and miserably failing. Ignis, on his part, remained calm. It was taking him every fiber of his body to not lose composure, but he was doing an acceptable job.  
Soon enough, he looked down when Gladio’s hands moved towards him, only to find Ignis’ hands and take a soft grip of them, staying down and in between them.  
Ignis looked at the grip for a moment and ignored the world. He wanted to save in his memory how it looked; Gladiolus Amicita holding his hands. Those rough, big hands on his own. The contrast of skin color, even if the change was not so great. It was such a simple detail, but this was going to be the last time he would ever hold hands with him, he thought, and he wanted to take the mental image with him for as long as his life could allow him to remember, to feel. Gladio said nothing and let him. Like he knew. Like this was not new to him, the sadness of a lover looking at their hands and wishing the same than Ignis, the adviser thought. Like this was not new.  
_Because it isn’t_ , he whispered in his mind.

He contained a sigh in his chest and forced himself to look up. He found Gladio giving him a weird look, with a smile but nerves blossoming and invading every inch of the Shield no matter how much he tried to dissimulate. Ignis stayed quiet; had it been any other situation, he would have encouraged Gladio to speak. But he couldn’t, not this time. For once, Ignis did not want Gladio to speak.  
“I uhm…” the twenty-year-old started before looking down. Ignis stayed quiet and looked at him in silence, waiting. “Ignis…this is…maybe this is going to be unexpected…”  
_No. I’ve known. All this time, I’ve known. Don’t worry. Shoot now. I understand._  
“I just…I’ve been meaning to tell you for a time now, but…” Gladio looked up at him and his cheeks flushed in red; when the heat invaded him, the Shield looked down as if to hide himself, still smiling.  
_For how long? You should have done this in the first moment you wanted to._  
“Ignis, I uh…hm…” Gladio kept the head down and his smile faded completely. There was silence and his thumbs dumbly caressed the back of Ignis’ hands. “…this is…very hard for me…very hard, overall…”  
_I know. I know, I know, I really know how hard it is. You don’t need to wait for longer. Just do it. Strike. Don't make this unnecessarily longer than it needs to be._

Gladio still took his time. He kept fidgeting with Ignis’ hands in his own, staring away, chuckling to himself with nerves, looking at Ignis with seriousness and a slight something that looked like pity, and stuttering. Ignis only let him do in silence, waiting both patiently and impatiently, his heart beating so loud it echoed in his ears.  
_My dear…from all the things in life that I’ve had to let go in my life…_  
“…Ignis, this isn’t easy for me to say, but…I’m not going to wait any longer…”  
_…why you?_  
“What I want to say is…we’ve been together for a while now and…I’ve…I want to…”  
Ignis softly closed the eyes, and awaited for the sword to strike down on him.  
“Ignis…I…”

He kept the eyes closed and the head slightly down.  
_Just shoot._  
He had come to believe that he was but one of those people, only one relationship of no significative importance in Gladiolus’ life, only one more to add to the list, just a senseless part-time romance, he had come to have for sure so strongly and had it for certain with such a strong spirit…that when Gladio shot a different bullet than the one he was expecting, Ignis was taken off-guard and made him sincerely confused. 

As soon as the words were given, Ignis looked up at his boyfriend. Gladio was looking at him with an expression that Ignis would have easily understood in any other context, but right now the adviser was too shocked and busy in his own disaster of a head to decipher the feelings behind the furrowed eyebrows and the slight smile. Ignis looked at all those details, the tension of Gladio’s hands while holding his own, the little smile, the eyes scared and a bit shy, but he, at the same time, could not fully see them. Simply because they did not make sense. Gladio was not supposed to be smiling at him. He was not supposed to have said…that. Ignis kept the eyes on him and stopped breathing, not realizing so, and only able to stare at Gladio to the eyes.

Ignis heard. He had been looking down for a while now, while Gladiolus stuttered and took his time trying to let the words out, so the adviser did not really see him when the Shield finally let it all out. He heard just fine, but the words did not make sense. Nothing of them made any sense to the thing Ignis was prepared for. And, like with everything else that he cared for in his life, he started overthinking again.  
Not having seen Gladio when he said that made him hesitate; perhaps Ignis was so sickly in love that his brain, in full denial, changed the sounds syllable by syllable until forming this beautiful lie. Maybe Gladio had really not spoken yet, and Ignis’ mind, so twisted and terrified and trying to protect his heart, used Gladio’s voice to build those words.  
Nobody had ever said that to Ignis. Why would Gladio do it now that he was supposed to be breaking up with him?  
Among all and any of the unexpected things to say in the world…why precisely _that?_

Agonizingly long seconds passed by. Gladio’s smile eventually faded and he looked at Ignis with worry, not sure how to feel. He was hoping to not have messed things up, but it was hard to tell when all that Ignis was doing was to look at him as if though he had just revealed the secret of the universe’s creation to him: with a disbelief so big it was heartbreaking in a non-positive way.  
“…what?” Ignis had meant to be firm, but the questioned came out as a murmur, a voice so quiet that Gladio read his lips rather than heard him. 

The prince’s Shield smiled for only a second out of a nervous reflex. He stared down and chuckled nervously again.  
“…it was so hard, and you have me repeating it?” Gladio said with a little smile. Ignis, on his part, was unable to answer. He kept the eyes, widened behind his glasses, on his boyfriend as if though he had just admitted to have a terminal disease. The Shield took some moments and closed the eyes. He took in a deep breath, his thumbs caressing Ignis’ hands again, before he looked up. He made sure to look into Ignis’ widened green eyes, no smile on his face. His heart, lke it had been doing all across the day, was pounding against his chest so hard he was sure it could be seen from under his loose hoodie. 

He kept the eyes on Ignis for a moment and made sure to maintain the soft but firm grip of their hands while repeating those words.  
“Ignis” Gladio murmured, “I love you.”

There was silence. Ignis had heard him, had seen him. There was no way he could have misheard twice, not with the full attention he was paying. There was no way it was his mind making him hear things; Gladiolus’ lips moved accordingly to the words. It was not fake. It was not a lie.  
This was real.

There was more and more silence, in which Gladio expected for an answer or any reaction, but Ignis offered none. All that he could do was stay as he was, the eyes fully fixed on Gladio’s, and the rest of the face and body frozen. He had the lips slightly parted, but that was all reaction. He did not move, did not make a sound. The only sign of life in him was the slight, tiny movements of the eyes, that, despite the little movements, never broke eye contact with Gladio, as if though he was reading a whole book in the brown of his irises and had come to be hypnotized into it.  
Gladio looked at him at first with affection, but after an entire minute, sixty long seconds of no reply or movement, the affection had come to turn into worry. This was not the reaction he had expected. Gladio knew this look, except he had never seen it this terribly big.  
Something inside Ignis had just been broken.

Ignis had built to himself an entire world of thoughts out of his nights of overthinking, and it had only been fed and extra solidified in the lapse between “I need to tell you something” two hours prior to this and this exact moment, that those three words, three lone, "silly" words kicking in as unexpectedly had suddenly brought all of that world down. It was a positive thing, what with how terribly negative that world that Ignis built to himself was, that Gladiolus’ words had come to break it all down. But, despite it being a good thing, it still meant precisely that: something inside Ignis breaking. So it took him time. It took him time to swallow the words, to digest them, it took him time because all that he believed had suddenly been brought down in less than five seconds, and it was hard not only to get adapted to the sudden change, the mere fact of _understanding_ this was happening kept him in shock.

Gladio waited for a reaction, but he got none. Ignis was not reacting. All that the adviser was doing was the same for all these eternal moments, perhaps even minutes, only staring at Gladiolus in complete silence. The little reaction that there was happened across Ignis’ face after about a minute in complete silence, the expression starting to deform subtly, with the eyebrows starting to furrow and the eyes suddenly gleaming not with joy but rather with a layer of tears on them. The Shield looked at him and basically mirrored the look on his face, the eyebrows shrugging in worry and the shoulders dropping slightly, in sadness. If he had to be honest, this reaction was not moving at all; it was worrying.

Gladio had expected surprise, of course. He knew that this was possibly the first time somebody told Ignis those words, at least in the context of a romantic partner, and he was aware that this would take him off-guard. But he expected surprise, not shock. Because that was possibly the only way to describe it; shock. The way Ignis looked at him as if he had said the King had died or something, the way he could not move and only looked at him as if wondering, as if expecting for Gladio to burst out in laughter at him…it was worrying. Gladio was aware that Ignis had a slight anxiety trouble that did not allow him to be a hundred percent calm in the relationship, out of mere paranoia of him “not being enough” for it, and sometimes even finding himself “not worth” all that Gladio did for, gave and said to him. He was aware…but he had not, until only now, come to fully understand how much Ignis' head was willing so hard to not even be able to believe he had been told something as necessary and sincere as an 'I love you'.

This had come to be the most important relationship Gladio had ever had…the last he wanted in it was to mess up. He had thought it would be fine to finally say this, but, due to Ignis’ reaction, he felt he had just done wrong. So, worried, he let go of Ignis’ hands only to be able to cup his face. Ignis still did not move, even when Gladio’s hands softly but firmly managed to hold his cheeks, his long fingers going above and under his ears and into his locks of hair, trying not to mess with the temples of the glasses.  
“Ignis, I’m…I’m sorry, Iggy” Gladio apologized, staring down at the younger man. “I think I just messed up. I’m sorry, Ignis. Listen, you don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to, don’t force it, it’s fine, I just…” he sighed, looking down for a moment, still holding his boyfriend’s face, and as he spoke he looked up to the green eyes again. “I just wanted to let you know how I feel, but you don’t have…I should have known it’s maybe too soon for you, maybe you weren’t prepared, I just…”

Gladio shut himself up as soon as he felt a touch on one of his hands,which were still cupping the adviser’s face. Ignis had moved up one of his own and placed it on top of one of the Shield’s, softly, not pressing against it, only resting his palm against the knuckles and fingers. At the time his hand appeared to rest there, Ignis eyes went down. His face would have done the same wasn’t Gladiolus holding it. The older man watched and let him stare down, blinking slightly, not knowing well how to interpret such a great sadness. Perhaps, he guessed, Ignis had not wanted to engage this far in the relationship and now felt guilty that Gladio had said that. Still, unlike Ignis, he wanted to wait for his boyfriend to speak instead of jumping to conclusions himself.

He waited still some moments, in which Ignis only stared down and then also slightly to a side, as if embarrassed, but still too sad for any other feeling to shadow the sadness.  
“…I thought…” Ignis started in a whisper so low Gladio furrowed the eyebrows even more as if that would make his ears more open. Ignis, however, decided to raise the voice a bit more, even though it remained a murmur. “…I thought you were breaking up with me…”

The only response Gladio could offer for a moment was a blink of surprise and the lift of his eyebrows. He stared at Ignis with surprise, almost expecting for him to start laughing and say he was joking, but all that Ignis did was to softly and shyly caress his hand while keeping the eyes down. And, suddenly, Gladio understood.  
Ignis had not explicitly said anything about this fear, but it was suddenly very clear to Gladio: it was not a secret that he had been in quite a number of relationships and that most failed at a relatively short time, Ignis had previously spoken to him about his fears of “not being as good as other partners you’ve had”, he had shown himself a bit too insecure on some aspects of the relationship, and from many other implicit things, reactions and words…of course. It was _obvious_. 

Ignis was scared of a break-up. Had been for…how long? Gladio wondered. How long had Ignis been on the tightrope without Gladio noticing such a vulnerable state?

Gladio looked at him a few moments more while the understanding of the situation hit him on the head like a brick, also not helping but to be moved at Ignis’ expression and body language in those moments; Ignis, the usual him, was pure fire, an unmovable wall, he was pure strength to limits not even Gladio himself understood; reserved, tall, elegant Ignis was an unbreakable statue with a cold face not even the most grotesque insults could deform. One could threaten him, make fun of him, spit on his face, and he would still keep a straight face and stay calm.  
But right now, there on the rooftop of the Citadel, the sun already gone into the skyline and allowing the night to take over, Ignis was everything but that unmovable statue. The vulnerability was obvious and clear, the fragility explicit, he kept the eyes down, the body off guard…and a little tear was rolling down one of his cheeks. 

On a part, Gladio was content by seeing that; Ignis never gave himself time to really _feel_ , so that he was allowing it to himself in those moments was a pretty positive thing. On another part, not much different, Gladio felt moved by knowing that only in his presence would Ignis allow himself to shatter like this; only in his presence, because, consciously or not, he trusted in Gladio to keep the guard up when Ignis could not, and only in front of him, because only Gladio could make his heart open like this. No matter where Gladio looked at, and despite Ignis’ tears, there was mere positivity in this. Maybe it was not the expected reaction out of seeing that lonely tear, but Gladio could not help it; he smiled. 

Some moments into the silence and after he understood things, he suddenly smiled while looking at Ignis, and the curve of his lips turned into a grin, accompanied with a little sigh that almost sounded like a chuckle. He looked at Ignis with that grin, not of joy or happiness but rather of a moved heart, and soon enough he brought his boyfriend to himself, wrapping his arms around him, keeping a hand buried in his hair on the back fo his head and the other arm firmly around Ignis, with the hand flat on the smaller man’s back. Ignis let him do and only let his head rest on Gladio’s chest, on a side, the hands instinctively going to grip at Gladio’s hoodie from his back, tightening, holding so hard as if though letting go meant falling into a bottomless pit. Now that Gladio was not watching him, Ignis allowed himself to drop a second tear, pretending to not notice it, and feeling the older male keep him close, rocking him very, very slightly in the embrace. There was a third and a fourth tear, and Ignis hated himself for them, but let them continue flowing in complete silence. 

Gladio kept Ignis in arms, firm but not tight, with strength but not force. A few moments into the hug, Gladio had come to hide part of his face in Ignis’ hair on top of his head (there where Gladio had reached his adult height by then, Ignis maybe still had a few inches to grow in one or two years). He nuzzled at it lovingly, adoring the sensation of Ignis’ ridiculously soft hair, in contrast, for example, to the rough goatee beard he had let grow for the past couple of months. Both stayed hugged in complete silence, holding each other. Gladio, many moments later into it, kissed at the top of Ignis’ head lovingly and stopped the slight rocking, but not planning to let their hug break just yet. 

Gladio, despite his rough, maybe even sillyattitude, understood. He really understood Ignis’ struggles on overthinking. He did not find it to be a silly paranoia, or a teenage-like fear, like Ignis himself insisted to call it. Gladio comprehended. And now that he had finally understood what Ignis had been hiding all these months, understanding Ignis cared far much more for their relationship than he had ever admitted before, and seeing him this broken, Gladio could not help it but want to let him into the full truth of those words, but trying to find a good way to say it, a truth that maybe nobody would believe, yet stayed as a honest statement. He had wanted to not let Ignis know about it until days later, maybe not let him know until Ignis would gift him the same words back, but Gladio, too moved in the heart in those moments by seeing Ignis so touched and destroyed by the false idea of a break-up, had to tell him right then and there.

And it was Gladio; soon enough, he found the way to say it.  
“Nobody had ever reacted like this at those words” he murmured with the lips still brushing against Ignis’ head. “You know why?”  
“Because none of your previous partners had been an overdramatic, anxious loser?” Ignis asked back trying to maintain his composure, but his voice trembled slightly as he spoke and it did not go unnoticed. Despite that question coming to be bitter and a bit heartbreaking, Gladio gave a low, very low and dearly warm laugh out.

He smiled and kept Ignis firmly hugged, tightening a bit his embrace on him, holding him as firmly and not planning to let go until the embrace would gather Ignis’ broken pieces and have them assemble back into one.

With the eyes closed, Gladio kissed his head with as much sincerity as he could put into a kiss.

“Because I had never told anyone before.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://moonraccoon-exe.tumblr.com/post/162436679243/young-gladnis-gladio-has-a-lot-of-exes-ignis


End file.
